Thirteenth Night
by Noboyuki
Summary: A slightly modernized sequel to the Bard's epic story of gender confusion. Some strong language. Suggestive themes. Deticated to the Patuxent High Harlequins.
1. A Loveless Marriage

**I do not own _Twelfth Night,_ it's characters, or any of William Shakespeare's other creations.**

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**Chapter 1: A Loveless Marriage **

It was midnight, in the garden of an Elizabethan mansion. A man in his mid- twenties stood, blond and short-statured. His heart filled to the brim with doubt, he spoke the lament of his heart:

_"They do not love that do not show their love.  
The course of __true love__ never did run smooth.  
Love is a familiar. Love is a devil. There is no evil angel but Love."__*****_

"Would you just shut up?! The play's over you idiot!" a crisp voice shouted at him. "You can stop talking like a douche now, if you're even able." The man, Sebastian sighed as a beautiful scarlet-haired woman stormed into the star-lit garden. On her own, she was not an imposing creature, standing no taller or straighter than any other woman. But the way she carried herself, the way she moved, even in her speech, she displayed power. Power she had no fear of using. She strode in sullying the one sanctuary Sebastian had free from her, Olivia, his wife.

"_The next time some random hot chick asks you to marry you, say no you moron!" _he thought to himself. Though the truth was, much as he hated to admit it, Olivia was right. Now that their "story", _Twelfth Night _was over, there was no need for Sebastian to keep speaking in the Old English dialect that he had been forced to use, or suffer the consequences of the Literary Council. It had just become a habit, and not having to do it anymore took a bit of getting used to. "Sorry _Sweetness" _he forced out, trying not to start another issue.

"Don't you Sweetness me Dumbass. Where the Hell were you at dinner?! Is it too much to ask for a man who actually cares about his wife?" Olivia spat at him, acid dripping from her words. "But I do care about you….I just need some "me time" sometimes. And could you not swear so much, it doesn't fit your beautiful face." he feebly responded. However all it seemed to do was throw oil on the fire. "I'll swear as much as I Goddamn want to! And don't you dare talk about my face. You just want to take me to bed again. You're lucky I'm not pregnant; you could never be a father. Not like it matters anyway, I'm starting to think you're-"she began. "Don't you dare say it!" Sebastian shouted at her. "STERILE!" she shouted. That was it, Olivia had gone too far.

"Shut up! Shut your damn mouth you whore! The only reason I even married you in the first place was because I thought my sister was dead and I was bored!" A pregnant silence filled the garden. Neither moved, too shocked by what had just happened. Sebastian had closed his eyes, terrified of what his actions had wrought. Olivia just stood there stunned, then she collected herself, and spoke clearly and decisively, her eyes as cold as steel. "I want a divorce."

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*******A monologue from **_**Two Gentlemen from Verona**_**, by William Shakespeare Act I Scene 2**

**There's chapter 1. Please rate and review.**


	2. Olde Friends

**I do not own _Twelfth Night,_ it's characters, or any of William Shakespeare's other creations.**

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**Chapter 2: Olde Friends**

Meanwhile, at the opposite side of the house, a cellar door burst open. "Mazel tov!" An older man with fading chestnut hair and a red-haired woman in her mid thirties yelled simultaneously. Another man, almost as old as the first, very tall almost a giant, jumped up from his seat. "Sir Toby, Maria! You're back!" "Well we knew that silly!" said Maria, still slightly tipsy from her honeymoon. "Isn't she a prize?" Sir Toby roared, laughing all the while. He was clearly even more drunk that his wife Maria. Their friend chirped back, "Of course she is! So how was your honeymoon?" "Well that is quite a story. Throw me some of that vodka and I'll tell you. Oh, you want some dear? Sir Toby asked, barely stopping for air. "Of course darling", Maria answered.

_One hour later…._

"…Ann thak wath how we got free ruums for da rest of da week." Sir Toby slurred out, having consumed enough alcohol to give a rhinoceros cirrhosis. The three friends had been reminiscing non-stop the whole time, almost as much as they were drinking. Sir Andrew was sitting hunched on a stool, with a goofy grin plastered on his long face. The happy newlyweds were cuddling clumsily on a sofa opposite him. "You were fantaz- er…frantras-uh…I love you Maria!" "Ooooh, I was nuffin'. It wath all you, you were a stallion…ur something…what **is** a stallion…?"

As the inebriated Lady's Maid tried to figure out her own words, the door slammed open a second time. This time, it was a young, blond girl. She strode in gracefully, a sharp contrast to the women who resided in the manor. Pale golden hair, pomegranate lips, and clear sky blue eyes graced the face of Sebastian's twin sister.

"Lady Viola! You've come back!" Sir Toby cried out, in a remarkable display of elocution. Viola smiled piteously, before clearing away some of the mess her friends had made, and sitting down gently next to the so-called knight. "It was _you _who left remember?" "Oh….thaz right…well, how've ya been?" The maiden sighed, "I'd rather not say. If I started, I'd probably need a drink myself, and no offense, but someone in this house needs to stay lucid." "Sweetie, I promise, you've got nuffin' on uz" Maria reassured her. " 'Sides, Andrew's still fine." Sir Toby added. "Uhh…I think he's unconscious" Viola interjected, as she waved a hand in front of an unmoving, but seemingly awake Sir Andrew. "…See?" Maria improvised, "Can't beat that!" Defeated, Viola sighed once more, "Hit me".

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	3. Missing

**I do not own _Twelfth Night,_ it's characters, or any of William Shakespeare's other creations.**

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**Chapter 3: Missing**

Viola took a long, needed drink. "Orsino" she began, referring to her husband, the Duke of Illyria. "....Orsino is scarring me. I mean, our marriage is fine, we're still each other's closest friends, and he's so kind to me.…but….something isn't right. I don't see the same look in his eyes when he looks at me. It's almost like he's looking through me. And it's not like I miss the passion or anything that was never why I loved him. He was, is, so romantic and sensitive. He knew when I needed him, and the right words to make it better. He made me laugh. I am still so in love with him…but what if he isn't? I feel like he's completely lost interest in me." She paused, and took a shaky intake of breath, as if stopping herself from crying. "I can't quite place the feeling; it's like something's missing."

She sat in silence, for a moment before a loud snore from Sir Toby made her jump slightly. Viola stood up quickly, "Sorry to bore you." She said briskly, before attempting to leave the room. It was Maria's hand that stopped her. "You didn't bore me sweetie" she said, seeming to sober up suspiciously quickly. "And don't blame Toby, he's been on the sauce nonstop since he got a letter from My Lady the other day, seems the poor dear has been having marital problems herself. And it hurts him so much to see her unhappy, and that's been a lot lately." Viola felt ashamed, "I'm sorry Maria, I've made this all about myself. "It's perfectly alright dear, I can see you're under quite a bit of stress yourself. Sit down and we'll talk about it."

Viola did as she was told. Once she had, Maria continued. "So you think your man's lost interest, hm? Well when did this all start?" Viola felt soothed. She had never had a woman close to her in her life to talk with, as her mother had died giving birth to her and Sebastian. "Well, two weeks ago, I suppose. I started noticing after a meeting he had with the sovereign nobles of Illyria, we always discuss them together, but he didn't want to. I just passed it off as him being tired, but later, at dinner he spoke of it to Valentine, one of our servants. I tried to speak too, but he said it wasn't important, and he changed the subject. We haven't made any plans to be together. And even during the mundane activities he seems preoccupied, like there is something he doesn't want to tell me." "Is that all?" Maria asked, not letting a single detail slip by. "Well…" Viola continued, blushing a bit, "It's been a while since we…you know… expressed our love. And it's not like I'm not willing, it's just… Well it's almost as if he's lost his sex drive."

At this Maria lost her composure. The laughter poured out of her, every second making her feel more guilty. "I-I'm sorry, that was insensitive." Maria finally managed, "Ahh, oh boy, well I don't think he's having an affair, if that's what you're worried about. No, if that were the case, he'd be taking all he was offered. I imagine that it's something that has nothing to do with you at all. Try to stay supportive and he'll come around. That is all right? Nothing else?". "No, not really. Well, he has been asking me about how Sebastian has been doing, but I don't think that has anything to do with it." Viola responded. "Who knows what goes on in men's heads. Why don't you head to bed now, I can take care of these two walking beer-kegs myself" Maria answered, referring to the sleeping knights. "Alright" Viola murmured as she rose, "And Maria." "Yes dear?" "Thank you for listening, I think if I had a mother, she'd be something like you." "Not quite, I'm drunker!" the older woman chuckled.

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	4. Two Fools

**I do not own _Twelfth Night,_ it's characters, or any of William Shakespeare's other creations.**

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**Chapter 4: Two Fools**

After what seemed like months, the motley crew of drunks and duchesses finally cleared out of the small room. Viola had returned to the abode of her beloved husband, bidding a fond farewell to Maria, and the two unconscious knights. As for them, they were drenched with ice water, and threatened by the Head Woman to vacate the area on pain of being left out in the wilderness, with their "attributes" smeared with honey. Needless to say the thought of wandering bears, got the pair moving pretty fast.

Once they had departed, a lanky figure crawled out from of the void. "It" was a foul loathsome creature, who had been humiliated and disgraced. "It" had fled from human society, quietly lurking in the shadows. "It" quickly scanned the room before stepping into the dim light, revealing "it's" identity, Malvolio, the fallen Steward of Olivia's manor.

"They think they've won; fools! Bastards! My revenge shall come upon them like a spider on a fly" he hissed, a rusty tone, angrily motioning with his left arm. The statement most likely would have been much more dramatic if the ex-steward did not have a very amused clown right behind him, comically mimicking every move he made. At the moment, said clown was shaking his fist melodramatically.

Completely oblivious to the jester, Feste's, actions, Malvolio continued uninterrupted. "They betrayed me, made a fool of me, and committed atrocious acts upon me, a man of the **highest **quality in all of Illyria!" he bellowed, quickly reaching a state of insane histrionics. All the while Feste continued to ridicule him, though finding it increasingly difficult to keep from falling over in peels of laughter.

"Even that woman," he added, referring to the house's Mistress, whom he had once deluded himself into believing she loved him, "even she scorned me...Well she can go to Hell!" he bellowed, throwing his arms back in emphasis, nearly flogging Feste in the process. Luckily for him, the clown had amazing reflexes, and dodged the offensive limbs with ease.

"That bitch has no power over me...not anymore. For there is only one woman in the land worthy of my splendor. The duchess, Viola, of Messaline." Malvolio swooned, so much like a woman in fact, that the jester that shadowed him had to literally gag himself to prevent himself from erupting in giggles, tears pouring down his tanned face in utter hysterics. After the initial shock of hilarity, Feste resumed his antics, striking several elaborate, and feminine poses as Malvolio began to gush shamelessly about the radiant maiden.

"Her golden hair, that shines like the first rays of dawn on a field of ripe wheat. Her deep sapphire eyes that sparkle like the endless shimmering ocean. Her sensual vermillion lips that shape her face in wisdom and congeniality. Her delicate throat that contains that enchanting, seraphic voice. And her **power**. Ah yes, none could compare to this prize." he finished, laying his hand to his heart- or at least where one could find a heart in most human beings. Then, his demeanor changed completely, becoming a murderous rage. "And she **will **have me, once I dispose of those bastards who dared make a fool out of me. With my honour restored, Viola will abandon that fairy Orsino in an instant for my debonair form!"

And with that, the fallen steward began to cackle maniacally, and ran off to enact his "ultimate revenge", still completely unaware of the mocking clown. Once Feste was sure the glorified butler was out of earshot, he snarkily commented,"Yeah I'm **sure **that'll work out for ya!", and fell to the floor enraptured in uncontrollable laughter, literally rolling with amusement. Malvolio had not been the only soul that the clown had been essentially stalking that night. Feste had observed the all of the manor's inhabitants little episodes that evening. And having a rather sick sense of humour, the night's events had been like crack to the dark-haired fool. After several minutes of laughter, Feste finally ceased his wild cachinnation. To him, the heavily aching sides and chest were well worth the entertainment.

"_Oh this is gonna be good.", _Feste thought to himself, allowing a hearty chuckle to escape his raw throat. "These weirdos never cease to amuse me."

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